Luyện nghe bài hát English Fire

Seven brides me seven sins
Seven seas for me
From gates to Rlyeh
Abydos to

And sing from stern
But now I to play
For I yearn to to woodland ferns
Where Herne and his huntress lay

Now the are turning, spurning the darkness
The great purgations of distinguished
Are but in time to the thrill that Im once more
Heading to the bedding of her shores

The wind bickered in Satanic mill
Eyes in deep thickets of trees
And mists clung tight in panic to
When spoke her soul to me

From Imbolg to
Lughnasadh to Samhain
I her lament as seasons blent
Together a chimerical

Now the tidal are turning in darkness
The celebrations of wars
Are but stills in time to the chill climbs once more
Dreading the red on her English shores

Gone are the summers of my youth
Cruel winters cut their throats
With polished scythes reap worldwide
black skies and forest smoke

And the hosts I saw there
of carrion law
Drove the ghosts of my
To rove and rally more

One of her sons from the far flung
Come home to
The rampant of the Leonine
Risen pestilent fields

Now the tidal are turning in darkness
The salvation of her hungry
Shalt spill like wine from the hills to that pour
Spreading her beheadings on these shores

For the that I saw there
Drones of law
the ghosts of my forbears
To rove and once more

This is a waking for
From its doze
This is a for England
Lest hope and glory are as foes